Saturday Morning Surprise
by Jules3
Summary: Part 5 (finally)! How will Chandler cope with giving up his son? Please review!
1. Saturday Morning Surprise, Part One

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, and... actually, you know what? If words are really powerful enough to keep me from getting sued, then I'm going to take this opportunity to use them to say this: I am all-powerful, and, as Phoebe Buffay would say, "You're all invited to bite me!" Heheh... just kidding. :) Bright, Kauffman, and Crane: I salute you. You comedy geniuses, you...  
  
This takes place after Kathy (awhile after, as you'll see soon enough) but before London. Basically, London didn't happen.   
  
Saturday Morning Surprise  
  
"Bill, bill, junk, bill..." Chandler flipped through the mail disinterestedly as he ascended the stairs after a morning jog that had, in all reality, been more like a morning heart-attack-in-the-making. He sighed as he climbed the stairs, a task which took much more effort than it should have, as his legs made it known that they were not happy. "So much for those nutcases who say workouts make you feel great," he muttered, wincing as he felt his hamstrings burn. He sighed and paused momentarily as he reached his floor, closing his eyes and arching his back. Groaning, he turned and froze when he saw something sitting in front of his door. Something that looked remarkably like a bassinet. "Oh, hell," he whispered, taking a step away from it as though it were a time bomb. For a fleeting moment, he weighed his options: one, he could turn and run, hoping that someone else would deal with it. Being that he had neither the energy nor the absence of conscience to do such a thing, he opted for his other choice and timidly approached the bundle, trying to get a peek inside. From the mounds of blankets, he gathered that it was, in fact, a baby's bassinet, and he immediately felt a sense of sympathy take over. "Looks like Joey's finally gone and done it," he thought to himself as he took another step toward it. The thought flew out of his mind when he saw that, in addition to the blanket that undoubtedly covered a child, there was a envelope at the foot of the basket with a name penned carefully across it: "Chandler." Never before had the mere sight of his own name instilled such a sense of fear within him, and he recoiled, terrified, as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. He stood, rooted to the spot, and stared at the name, feeling an unyielding sense of terror take over. His breaths came out in gasps as he sank down onto the step and stared, dumbfounded. Once he had, to a certain degree, regained his senses, he rose slowly and walked softly toward the bassinet, hoping against hope that the hush surrounding it meant that the kid was asleep. He gingerly reached down and seized the envelope, retreating as soon as he had it in his grasp. He sat once again upon the step, and quietly opened it. He was almost too afraid to read the letter, but his curiosity won over his fear, and he anxiously scanned the words.  
  
"Dear Chandler,  
I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but I'm afraid I have no choice. I have nowhere else to turn, and I know that this is the best thing that I could do. This is your son, Jackson. He was born on August 19, and his birth certificate and medical records and such are in a folder in his bag. I'm sorry that I'm leaving him with you so suddenly and without an explanation, but there's nothing else that I can do. I know you have a reliable job and that you can give our son a good home. Again, I'm sorry to do this to you, and to him. Please forgive me, but most of all, please take care of him and give him all the love that I can't. Thank you, Chandler.  
Kathy"  
  
He swallowed, his heart having leapt into his throat at the first line of the letter. His son? His and Kathy's son? He stared apprehensively at the bassinet again and, after a moment's deliberation, crept toward it once more. Taking a deep breath, he peered nervously into it, and didn't know why he was surprised to see that there was, in fact, a child asleep inside. Perhaps he'd been hoping that this was some wicked joke that one of his friends had decided to play on him, but that suspicion disappeared as he looked, dumbfounded, at the sleeping infant. Unsure of what to do, and not wanting to wake him until he'd at least had a chance to let this sink in somewhat, he gently picked up the bassinet and carried it into the apartment. A quick glance at Joey's still-open bedroom door told him that his friend hadn't yet returned from the previous night's rendezvous, and he gingerly placed the basket on the countertop, making sure that it was well away from the edges. The last thing he needed was to drop the kid, thereby proving just how unfit he was to be in such a situation. The absurdity of it all hit him suddenly, and he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. The fact that he, a commitment-phobic, cynical, solitary, and only moderately responsible man would ever be put in charge of another human life was insane. He was barely successful at getting Joey to stop choreographing his own Celebrity Deathmatches out of brie cheese figurines and smashing them all over the kitchen counter. How on earth would he be able to care for a child? He shook his head, almost ridiculing himself, as he pushed the thought out of his mind. Of course he wasn't going to be caring for a child. This was all just some mix-up that would be cleared up eventually, and he could go back to living his life, in which the most pressing issue was getting back to the apartment in time for Baywatch. He was jerked back to reality by the faint sound of whimpering, and his eyes locked on the bassinet as he awaited an ear-piercing scream. The whimpering continued, and after a few moments, it increased so that it was somewhere between whimpering and actual crying. He approached the baby nervously, staring down at him and clearing his throat. "Uh, hey there... Jackson. I, uh... I know that you don't know who in the hell I am, but don't you worry... we're going to figure this mess out in no time, okay?" His words apparently had no soothing effect on the baby, whose cries became gradually louder. "Okay, okay, don't cry. Shh... uh... look! It's Jenny McCarthy made out of cheese!" The baby's cries continued, and he threw a desperate glance around the apartment, looking for something, anything, that would calm the kid down. He saw only the duck sitting on the couch, and for a moment he could have sworn that his little duck-face held a humored smirk. He shook his head again. "If you think a duck knows how pathetic you are, you're REALLY losing it," he told himself. Figuring that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to introduce fowl to infant, his face suddenly lit up as he thought of his one hope that remained. "Monica!" He was certain that his baby-crazed friend would know what to do in such a situation, or at least, she would know better than he. Too afraid to pick the kid up while he was awake, he simply ran across the hall and barged into Monica and Rachel's apartment, leaving both doors open so that he could at least still hear the kid. "Monica?" He ran to her closed bedroom door and pounded on it frantically. "Mon?" She opened it, having just gotten out of the shower, in nothing more than a bathrobe. "Mon, you gotta help me."   
"Chandler, what the hell... are you okay?" She looked at him, the concern written plainly across her face. Although Chandler was, by nature, a relatively high-strung individual, it took quite a bit to push him to the point of a crazed frenzy. "What's wrong?" Realizing she probably wouldn't believe it if he told her, and not having the energy to find out, he simply jerked his head in the direction of his apartment.  
"Let me show you something," he said simply, knowing that it would be the easiest way to broach the subject. Intrigued by his odd behavior, she didn't argue, despite the fact that she was in a bathrobe, and wordlessly followed behind him.   
"You know," she said absently as she heard the wails, "it's Saturday morning. You might want to turn your TV down a bit." She didn't see the ironic half-smile that crossed his face as he led her across the hall. When she caught sight of the bassinet that was still perched on the counter, her eyes narrowed in confusion and apprehension. "What the hell?" Not bothering to finish the question, she turned to Chandler, requesting an explanation with her eyes. Still not having what he figured would be the adequate words, he grabbed Kathy's letter and extended it toward her, leaning back against the countertop as her eyes ran over the lines. She looked up at him after a few moments, her eyes a mixture of disbelief, confusion, and concern. "What are you going to do?" He stared at her, painfully aware of the fact that he hadn't the slightest idea. He shrugged, still not entirely conscious of the gravity of the situation.  
"I don't know," he said pointlessly. "But I figure getting the kid to stop crying would be step one."  
"Did you try holding him?" The look he gave her, which implied that she might as well have sprouted wings and flown about the room, said it all. She looked at him skeptically and approached the baby, cooing as her maternal instincts took over. "Yes, there we go..." she murmured as she lifted him and cradled him in her arms and his cries once again quieted to a few sporadic whimpers. She turned to Chandler, a smile on her face. "See? That's all he wanted." She turned once again to the baby, a silly grin took over her face, and she developed a voice to match. "Wasn't it? You just wanted to be held, didn't you? Yes, you did." As she bounced the baby up and down on her hip, she faced Chandler once more. "So... what are you going to do for now?" she asked, knowing too well that asking long-term questions would only freak him out. He shrugged again, watching the bouncing bundle warily.   
"Don't babies puke a lot?" he asked suspiciously. "I know if someone bounced me like that I'd start to feel a little queasy." Monica chuckled slightly as she looked at Chandler thoughtfully. After a moment, she stepped closer to him.   
"Okay... you are now going to hold him... after all, he is your son... apparently," she added, removing the baby from her hip and standing directly in front of Chandler. He immediately flinched, as if she'd approached him with a blowtorch, shaking his head violently.  
"I don't know how to hold him," he objected. "I-- I'll drop him."  
"You won't drop him," Monica reassured him. "Come on... it's not hard." Chandler stood awkwardly as Monica positioned the baby in his arms. "See?" she said, standing back with a satisfied look on her face. "There. You're doing fine." She felt an odd sense rush over her as she saw him standing there, looking terrified to his very core, and she realized she'd never before seen Chandler hold a baby, except for Ben, and Ben had been much older. She smiled warmly. "I'm just going to go get dressed." His faced twisted into a look of panic as he imagined himself left alone with Jackson once again. "Calm down," she said, reading his thoughts. "I'll be two minutes, okay?" He nodded wistfully and watched as she walked out. Holding the baby gingerly, he walked toward the barcalounger and sank back into it slowly, trying not to disturb the baby's peaceful state. Still holding him firmly, he propped the baby up on his knee and stared at him, realizing that it was the first time he'd taken a good look at who was allegedly his son. He bounced his knee slightly, relieved when the baby seemed to enjoy it, and prayed that he wouldn't become the target of a repulsive wad of baby-vomit. After a few moments, Jackson smiled slightly, and Chandler found himself grinning. Maybe he could handle this for awhile after all. Not a long while. But awhile. Like... days, maybe. Despite his nonexistent knowledge in the field of child-rearing, he had an inkling of satisfaction at the idea that he was someone's father. The notion quickly disappeared when he remembered the predicament he was in, and he hastily stopped bouncing the baby. He stared at him, momentarily dumbfounded, and breathed a sigh of relief as he heard Monica re-enter, turning to face her as she sat in the barcalounger next to him. Neither was entirely sure of what to say, so bizarre was the situation. Finally, Chandler broke the silence as he resumed the bouncing of his knee.   
"Well, what do I do?" he asked, not sure exactly what it was that he wanted to hear. Monica shook her head and was silent for a moment.  
"I guess..." she paused and looked at him carefully, not wanting to alarm him, before she continued. "I guess... you can do one of three things. You can either (a) keep him." Chandler visibly tensed, a reaction that Monica chose to ignore. "You can (b) turn him over to the state and hope that he gets adopted by a decent family. Or (c) you can try and track down Kathy." Chandler was silent as he dealt with the reality of her suggestions. He knew she was right, and yet each idea brought with it a string of concerns and downsides. After a thoughtful silence, he spoke gently, looking once again at Jackson, whose chubby hands had managed to find the drawstring on Chandler's hooded sweatshirt. As he tugged on them gently, his father watched with an unfamiliar feeling of warmth.  
"I don't think I could give him over to strangers," he said sadly. "I mean... so many bad things could happen to him, and I don't think I could deal with that possibility." Monica nodded understandingly and waited for him to continue. "I-- I guess we could try to find Kathy," he said, not sounding entirely convinced that he wanted to do so. He sighed and gently untangled Jackson's hand from the cord in which it had gotten snarled, feeling a strange sensation in his stomach when the baby grasped onto his hand instead. He stared at him, wondering what was happening to him. Half an hour ago, he had been petrified of even touching the baby, and now he felt oddly pleased by the paternal feelings that had risen within him. Aware that she was witnessing a character change in the making, Monica reached over and patted his hand comfortingly.   
"Well, whatever you decide, you don't need to do it yet." He looked over at her, grateful that she understood him so well, and nodded. "Why don't we feed him?" she then suggested. "There's probably a bottle or some formula in that bag of his," she added. Chandler nodded again and she rose from the chair, walking over to the bag and sifting through its contents. "Ah-ha!" she cried triumphantly. "We have a winner! We just have to heat it up," she added, turning to look at the stove.   
Chandler stood up, propping Jackson up on his hip. "Okay, well, why don't you show me how to do it?" Monica looked at him, surprised. She was amazed at how well he was dealing with this. The man who bordered on hysterical at minor incidents was suddenly acting like he could actually pull off being someone's father, if only temporarily. She nodded and held the bottle out toward him.   
"Heat some water," she directed. "Then stick the bottle in it and wait for it to heat up." Chandler nodded.   
"Sounds simple enough." He did as he was told after Monica had taken the baby from his arms and watched the bottle intently. He periodically glanced at Monica and Jackson, wondering what was going to become of his son. As the word "son" spun around in his mind, he found himself lost in images of childhood. The stereotypical images that he was sure flashed through the mind of every parent and parent-to-be: teaching his son to walk, to throw a baseball, to shave. He felt a pang of guilt when he thought of surrendering his son to someone else, and recalled with a twinge of resentment how he had grown to begrudge his own father for leaving HIM to grow up without one. He sighed as he watched the bottle gradually steam up, and heeding Monica's directions, he removed it from the pot carefully and dried it off. He went to extend it toward Jackson, but was admonished by Monica. "Wait! You have to check it on your wrist first," she informed him.  
"Why?" he asked absently as he squirted a few drops of the milk onto his wrist, and flinched as the hot liquid stung the tender skin.  
"That's why," she replied with a sympathetic smile. He grimaced and placed the bottle down on the counter.   
"Perhaps we'll just wait for a moment," he suggested. She grinned as she continued to bounce Jackson and listen to his baby giggles.  
  
Later that evening, after having explained the entire situation to the rest of the group, Chandler found that he'd grown even more fond of Jackson and his little baby ways. He didn't understand why he was feeling such affection toward a relative stranger, and he wondered where it was coming from. Yet, at the same time, it was almost as if he understood it, and didn't want to let it go. It was that part of him that told him not to bother looking for a home for Jackson or searching for Kathy... it was that part that told him that his son belonged with him. As he sat on the couch in Monica's apartment after dinner, once again bouncing his son up and down on his knee, he felt the oddly familiar sensation that he had experienced more than once during the day, and at the same time, he felt the anxiety return at knowing he was faced with a complex decision.   
"How you holding up there?" Monica asked as she came and sat down next to him while the other four cleared away the dishes from the dinner she'd made for everyone.  
"Good," he replied thoughtfully. "I was just thinking."  
"I can imagine," she replied with a smile. He turned to face her.  
"Mon, thanks for helping me out this morning. I was so dazed, and I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't helped me." She smiled warmly.  
"Chandler, you don't have to thank me," she replied. "Plus, I got to play with this little guy," she added, taking hold of Jackson's tiny hand and grinning. Chandler smiled as he maneuvered the baby so that he was lying down in his father's arms and turned to Monica.   
"Would you mind holding him for a second while I fix his bottle?" he asked. "I mean, I guess it's probably about bedtime, right? What time do babies usually sleep?" Monica chuckled as she noticed his anxiety return.  
"Good call," she commended him. "He's looking kind of tired." Chandler smiled, relieved, and rose from the couch. As Monica sat cradling Jackson in her arms as he gripped onto her necklace, she found herself noticing that she could actually see Chandler in his face. He had piercing blue eyes, sharper than the general blue present in most babies' eyes, and she noted how they looked like Chandler's. The small amount of hair was a sandy brown, as she knew Chandler's had been when he was younger, and when the baby smiled, she could practically see the resemblance between father and son. She was jolted back into the moment when she noticed Chandler hovering over her with his son's dinner.  
"I checked it this time," he declared proudly, smiling. She laughed and moved as if to hand him over, but Chandler looked at her carefully. "You want to feed him?" he asked, recognizing the motherly look that she tended to get whenever she saw anything in diapers. She looked up at him and grinned.   
"You wouldn't mind?" He smiled and shook his head gently as he handed her the bottle and lowered himself to sit next to her again.   
"Actually, I was thinking," he said in a low voice. "And... I think I'm going to have plenty of opportunities to feed him in the future." Monica looked up at him, surprised that he had reached a decision so quickly, yet not wholly surprised what his decision was. For all the aggravation they gave him for being commitment-phobic, she knew how strongly he felt about family, and she could understand it, given his relationship with his parents. After a moment of his looking at her, as if awaiting her approval, she nodded sincerely and he released the breath that had somehow gotten caught in his chest. He rested his arm on the back of the sofa behind Monica and watched as she fed his son, feeling the fatherly feelings surface once again as he observed the way the baby's tiny hands tried to grasp the bottle. He was only dimly aware of the fact that the other four members of their sextet were staring at them, after a comment from Phoebe that was too low for either Chandler or Monica to hear.  
"Looks like we might have a couple more lobsters in our midst," she said in the voice that often accompanied her "psychic" observations. She let that comment hang in the air as they watched Monica and Chandler gazing down at the baby.  
  
As she entered Chandler's apartment the next day, she laughed out loud at the sight that met her eyes. Chandler was sitting with Jackson in his lap, and both of them had their eyes glued to the TV set, which was, as usual, showing Baywatch. Upon hearing her laugh, Chandler arched his head back, in at attempt not to break Jackson's interest, now that he was sitting still. He grinned as Monica shook her head. "Like father like son, I guess," she observed, smiling. Chandler's grin broadened and he indicated toward the seat next to him. Sinking into it, Monica was silent for a moment before she spoke. "How was he last night?"  
"Good," Chandler answered after a moment. "Although he was awake at five-thirty this morning... but at least he wasn't crying in the middle of the night."  
"He's really good," Monica said, slightly surprised that a child of Chandler's wasn't as jittery as his father. "Surprising, given what's in his genes," she added with a smirk.  
"Oh, ha ha," Chandler replied, although smiling. "Yeah, he is good," he agreed, looking at the baby affectionately. Monica had to keep from shaking her head at how Chandler seemed to have changed overnight. She'd heard that becoming a parent could change even the most irresponsible person, but it was a change that she wasn't sure she'd ever see Chandler undergo. She smiled as she broke the silence once more.   
"I was thinking, if that bag is all that Kathy left with him, maybe we should go and buy a few things today," she suggested. "Just small things, like a few changes of clothes, diapers, formula... stuff like that." Chandler looked at her uneasily. So far this parenting thing had been relatively easy, but he wasn't sure he was ready for baby shopping. She smiled, easing his anxiety. "I'll come with you," she offered with a smile. "I wouldn't let you go alone... God knows what you'd come back with." Chandler resisted the urge to make a defensive joke, knowing that she was entirely correct in her assumptions.   
"Okay," he agreed after a moment. "Sounds good." Monica nodded, almost excited at the prospect, and ran out of the apartment to get her jacket and purse. Chandler grabbed his coat and stood outside her apartment door, ready to go. She emerged a moment later and gave him a funny look.  
"You're not ready," she informed him. He looked at her, confused.  
"Huh?"  
"Jackson," she answered. "He can't go out like that."  
"Well, I agree with you, Mon, baby hippos aren't exactly the latest fashion, but he really doesn't seem to mind all that much." She shook her head sighing.  
"I mean," she explained, "you don't have any of his stuff."  
"Stuff?" Chandler repeated, beginning to feel inadequate once again.  
"Diapers, clothes, baby wipes, bottle, pacifier, blanket, hat," she rattled off, watching as Chandler's face went from curious to horrified. She chuckled slightly. "Just grab his bag," she suggested. He did so, and they left the apartment.  
  
"Uh, Mon?" Chandler asked timidly as they roamed the aisles of the nearest baby superstore. He was pushing the cart, with Jackson in the baby seat, and staring at the mountain of stuff they had managed to acquire in only thirty minutes.  
"Hmm?" she replied absently, comparing two different types of baby wipes.  
"Well, I appreciate your help, don't get me wrong, but uh... he's living in my apartment, not going on a world-round trip." Monica turned to face him, a slightly sympathetic look on her face.  
"Babies need lots of stuff, Chandler," she informed him. He simply nodded, realizing that it would be foolish for him to argue with Monica, the baby guru, and continued to push the basket. Awhile later, as the baby began to whimper, Chandler gently lifted him out of the seat.  
"It's okay, Jack," he whispered, bouncing him lightly on his hip as Monica had done. He stopped whimpering and Chandler smiled, satisfied. After gazing at them momentarily, Monica returned to scanning the aisles for anything they might need and grabbed some empty bottles, tossing them onto the heap of products they'd obtained.   
"You're going to have to sterilize the nipples," she told him absently as she picked up a pack of pacifiers.  
"Beg your pardon?" he replied, perturbed. She snapped back to reality, almost laughing at the slightly disturbed expression on his face. "The bottle nipples," she said with a smile. "Before you feed him," she explained.   
"Oh," he said, nodding. He wondered how she knew all this, despite the fact that she didn't have a kid. He eventually decided that it must be that pamphlet that he was sure all women got when they were teenagers that explained the stuff men never seemed to know. Like the fact that you can get a broken light bulb out of the light fixture with half a potato. Or that hairspray can remove ink from your skin. And, apparently, every possible accessory that a baby could ever need. He watched, relieved, as Monica surveyed their basket.   
"I think that's most of it," she said thoughtfully. "For now, anyway." Chandler resisted the urge to ask how he could need anything more when they'd bought practically the entire store, but he bit his tongue. He knew Monica understood far better than he what she was doing, and he was grateful for her help.  
As they stood at the checkout counter ringing up their purchases, Monica gazed at Chandler and Jackson with an expression with which he was all-too familiar. Wordlessly, he handed the baby to her and took out his credit card. He extended his finger toward his son, and the baby grabbed hold of it in his tiny hand and grinned a toothless grin, proceeding to stick the finger into his mouth. Chandler chuckled as he did so, and the cashier watched with a kind smile. "Such a beautiful family," she said warmly, as both Chandler and Monica's heads snapped up to look first at her, and then each other.   
They were both equally surprised when Chandler said only, "Thank you," and proceeded to dump the bags back into his cart. The woman gave a little wave toward Jackson as the three left the store, and Monica agreeably picked up his hand and waved back at her. They were silent as they sat in the cab on the way home, a silence that was eventually broken by Chandler nervously clearing his throat. "Mon, I'm sorry about back there, I just didn't want to have to explain--" He was cut off by Monica holding up her hand and smiling.  
"It's cool, Chandler," she said affably. "I totally understand." He nodded thankfully and sat back against the seat, looking over at Monica and his son, wondering what had possessed him to go along with the idea of the three of them being a family. As he observed how Monica made silly faces and Jack laughed and clapped his pudgy hands together happily, he realized what a good mother she was going to make one of these days. He'd always thought she'd be the first to have a child, with the exception of Ross, and he felt a strange twinge of jealousy when he imagined Monica getting married and having a child of her own. He dismissed the feeling with a slight shake of his head, admonishing himself silently and deciding that he was just feeling strange because of the whirlwind of events of the past couple of days, and he joined in with the laughter of Monica and his son.  
  
"Monica, you do realize what you're doing, don't you?" It was a week later, and Mon was changing the baby as Rachel stood a safe distance away. Monica ignored her a cooed down at Jackson as she snapped the buttons on his all-in-one together. As she lifted him, she placed him on her hip and finally turned to face Rachel, a wary expression on her face. "You're trying to be his mother!" she exclaimed forcefully, watching as Monica rolled her eyes and moved toward the kitchen to check the bottle she was preparing.  
"Rachel, don't be ridiculous," she dismissed her. "I am NOT trying to be his mother. I'm just trying to help Chandler out," she insisted. "He's my friend, and he needs some support right now. Plus," she added, turning toward her friend boldly. "I'm pretty sure YOU wouldn't have helped him out, am I right?" Rachel faltered as she stared at the baby.   
"Well, I would have if I knew anything about babies," she eventually argued, and Monica just smirked. "Where is Chandler right now?" she asked Monica, trying again to make her point.  
"Knicks game," she replied without missing a beat.  
"Yeah, exactly," Rachel answered, thinking she'd made her point.  
"Yeah, so? So I'm baby-sitting while he goes out and relaxes with the guys," she retorted. "It's not like he's constantly dumping Jack with me. He just needed a break."  
"Oh, please, Monica... it's painfully obvious that you've got this idea into your head of you and Chandler and Jack as a perfect family. Well, that can't work, I'm afraid, given that who WOULD be his father and his mother are friends and nothing more." She paused, remembering the remark Phoebe had made a week earlier. "Unless..." she trailed off momentarily, and then her voice broke the silence with a satisfied pronouncement. "You're falling for Chandler!"   
Monica felt like a deer caught in the headlights, and she spun around to check the bottle so that Rachel couldn't feel the blush that had crept into her face. "You're crazy," she said weakly, unable to think of an adequate retort.  
"I get it now," Rachel said insistently. "Now that he's matured... now that he's got this father-like air around him... you're falling for him!" she repeated emphatically, realizing with satisfaction that she'd trapped her friend. "His paternal senses have triggered something in that baby-obsessed mind of yours, and you're slowly but surely becoming more and more crazy about him."  
"Please, Rachel," Monica said once she had regained her senses. "Chandler and I are friends. Nothing more." She tried to keep her voice even, but she knew there had been a strain present in her speech when she'd said the last part. She just hoped that Rachel hadn't picked up on it. She couldn't deny that she was seeing Chandler in a whole new light, but she had managed to convince herself that she was just impressed with the way in which he'd become so responsible over the past week. Now, with Rachel trying to dissect her emotions, she realized that she was going to have to examine them for herself if she was ever going to figure out what was going on. "Now," she said, trying to change the subject. "Are you going to help me feed him or not?"  
  
"KNICKS RULE!" Joey cried as the three guys stood up to leave the arena once the game had ended. He almost quivered with excitement as he faced Ross and Chandler. "Yeah, baby! We POUNDED those Nets! They were MUTILATED!" Chandler and Ross chuckled slightly, as they were always amused by the animation that surfaced in Joey whenever the Knicks were brought into the picture. They slowly followed the surging crowd out into the open as the dome emptied. "Hey, you guys wanna go get a beer and celebrate?" Ross asked, noting that it was still somewhat early for a Saturday night.  
"I can't, man," Chandler replied. "Monica's watching Jack and I don't want to leave her too long."  
"Aw, c'mon Chandler," Joey urged. "You know what Monica's like with babies. She has absolutely no sense of time." Chandler shook his head apologetically.  
"Sorry, guys," he replied, unwavering. "Can't." Ross and Joey shared a look.  
"You know, man, the more time you guys spend with that kid, the more it's like watching a rerun of 'Leave it to Beaver' or something," Joey said.  
"There wasn't a baby in 'Leave it to Beaver,'" Chandler replied absently as he tried to hail a cab. None stopped, and he stood next to Ross and Joey on the sidewalk, turning to face them. "And what's your point, anyway?"  
"You and Monica," Joey continued after a moment. "It's almost like you guys are married or something, and you've got to get home to the missus." Chandler snorted and turned away, racking his brain for something to say. He'd been questioning himself ever since the idea of Monica starting a family had made him jealous, and the fact that Joey and Ross might have picked up on it alarmed him.  
"Look," he replied insistently. "She's been helping me out, and I don't want to take advantage of that. That's all."  
"Oh, please," Joey scoffed. "You love the idea of her at home with the baby and you walking in all 'Honey, I'm home.'" He paused and a look of realization crossed his face. "You like her."  
"Well of course I like her," Chandler replied, exasperated. "She's one of my best friends." Ross shook his head, agreeing with Joey.  
"No, man, you LIKE her, like her. Like you LIKE-liked Kathy." Chandler was silent for a moment as he tried to think of a response, but the silence lingered when none came to mind.   
"Taxi!" he yelled instead, waving his arm at a passing cab, relieved when it slowed and pulled up to the curb. He turned to glance at Ross and Joey as he jumped into the cab and they shared a knowing look as they got in behind him.  
  
"Da-da," Chandler encouraged as he knelt in front of his son. "C'mon, Jack, say 'Da-da.'" The baby grinned and bounced, reaching out and grasping Chandler's nose. He groaned. "I guess you inherited my incredibly short attention span," he grumbled as the baby laughed again. He couldn't hide the smile that crossed his face, and he laughed as Jack bounced again. He thought back to just over a week ago, and wondered what he'd done with his time before Jackson had shown up. Nothing of value, he decided, as he stared at the baby. He was in awe of the fact that he had a son, and he was beginning to realize that being a parent was something that he was actually good at. His determination at making sure his son had a better childhood than he'd had caused his fatherly instincts to be almost natural, and he was surprised at the ease with which he had managed to discover them. Monica stood by the door unnoticed as she watched Chandler urging his son to speak. "Da-da," he demonstrated again.  
"You know, too much pressure at a young age can lead to scarring later in life," she joked, alerting him of her presence. He looked up and smiled.   
"Hey," he greeted her, turning once again to face Jack. "I just wanted to see if he'd say it," he said, as if he thought he owed her an explanation.  
"Well," she said knowingly, "he's at about the right age." Chandler's eyes widened.  
"Really?" He turned back to the baby once more. "You hear that, Jack? It's about time, so let me hear it. Da-da."  
"Goo," he replied defiantly, and Monica laughed as Chandler sighed.   
"Okay, you have the rest of the day off," he said. "But tomorrow I wanna hear some words." He lifted Jack and placed him in the playpen that he and Joey had assembled, and then turned to face Monica. "What's up, beautiful?"  
"Eh... not a lot. I was bored, so I figured I'd come over here and see what you were up to." Chandler shrugged.   
"Taking my boredom out on my son, apparently," he remarked, causing Mon to laugh again.  
"Where is everybody, anyway?"  
"Um... well, Rachel's working, Phoebe and Joey are out on dates, and Ross is out with Carol and Susan for Ben's birthday." Chandler nodded as he glanced at his watch.   
"And you have no plans at 8:00 on a Friday night?" he asked, looking at her questioningly. She shrugged and he continued. "Well, I was just going to put Jack to bed... if you want, we could order some Chinese and watch a movie or something." Monica grinned.  
"You read my mind," she said warmly. He smiled back.  
"Okay, let me just get Jack ready to sleep... you want to call and order the food?"  
"Sure... you just want your usual?" He nodded with a grin and picked Jackson up out of his playpen as she grabbed the phone. He gently placed the baby down on the changing table in his room as he grabbed a fresh diaper and a pajama-type ensemble from one of the shelves. Monica entered a moment later. "It'll be here in about ten or fifteen minutes," she informed him. He nodded as he undressed Jackson and changed his diaper quickly, muttering something about the joys of fatherhood. "At least he's a boy," Monica pointed out. "I can see you being a little more uneasy if you had a daughter to deal with." After a moment, a mischievous grin crept over Chandler's face.  
"He's not just a boy," he said proudly, and with a raising of his eyebrow. "He's a Bing man!" Monica laughed as Chandler smiled again and snapped the light blue all-in-one up. "Okay, Jack," he said, admiring his work. "All done." Jack clapped his hands and smiled. "Now, don't you think I deserve a 'da-da' for that? Come on, Jack. Da-da. Say da-da."  
"Da," Jack mimicked obediently, and the way Chandler's face lit up was priceless.   
"Did you hear that?!" he exclaimed, looking at Monica and then turning back to his son once more. "Say it again, Jack," he pleaded. "Da-da."  
"Da," he repeated again. Chandler grinned, feeling something stirring inside him. He turned to look at Monica, who looked like she was on the verge of tears, and then back to his son.  
"How about Monica?" he suggested. "Say 'Mon,'" he directed. "Come on, Jack... 'Mon.'"  
"Ma," Jack suggested, and both Monica and Chandler froze, both fully aware of how close "Mon" and "Mom" sounded, although neither had given a thought to it before. Chandler stood abruptly and Monica stood frozen next to him, neither having a clue as to what should be said. Bored with the silence, Jack began to fidget and Chandler cleared his throat.   
"Well, I, uh... I guess it's time for bed," he suggested awkwardly, silently cursing himself for not anticipating the outcome of getting his son to try saying "Mon." Monica nodded quickly.   
"Yeah, I'll just, um... go wait for the delivery guy. She gave Jackson a quick kiss on the forehead, as she did practically every night before he went to bed, and exited the room hastily. Chandler sighed and sank back onto his bed with Jackson still in his arms.   
"Thanks a lot for that one," he said dryly, rubbing his son's back. "I see you're siding with Uncle Ross and Uncle Joey." He paused for a moment, deep in thought, and continued to rub Jack's back absently, his mind hazy. After a moment, he was jerked back to reality by Jackson's squirming, and he slowly stood up from the bed, placing his son in the crib next to it. He placed a light kiss on the baby's forehead and gently covered him with a blanket. "'Night," he murmured as he turned to walk back into the living area.  
They stared at each other in an awkward silence, but as Chandler opened his mouth to break it, a knock on the door beat him to it. Monica spun, welcoming the interruption, and opened the door to reveal the Chinese delivery guy with whom they'd become quite familiar. She accepted the food as Chandler jumped in and paid him, and he left. "Thanks," Monica said uneasily, referring to his buying her meal. He grinned.   
"No problem." The silence returned as they took the food out of the bags and sat on the barcaloungers. They ate their meal quietly, both being clueless as to what to say. Finally, having finished the food, Chandler spoke. "Sorry 'bout that," he apologized. She turned to face him, frowning slightly.  
"Why?"  
"I didn't mean to make you feel awkward," he explained. "It's just... you spend almost as much time with him as I do, and I figured it would be neat if he could say your name as well. That's all."  
"Oh, no, Chandler, I wasn't upset by it. I just... I don't want you to feel as though I'm invading your territory or anything. After all, you are his father, and I'm..." she paused, trying to find the right words. "I'm just your friend," she finished after a moment, and Chandler wondered if the wistful tone of her words was in his imagination.  
"You're more than that," he whispered uneasily. "You're... you're just... more than that. To both of us," he added. Suddenly feeling as though his liquid blue eyes were burning a hole right through her, Monica looked away as she felt the blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks. Chandler mentally scolded himself, suspecting that he'd made her even more uncomfortable. "Look Mon," he tried again. "Most of all, I just want to say... thank you for being there for me... and for Jack. I don't know how I would have managed without you these past weeks. I probably would have ended up being a horrible father and losing him," he said frankly. Monica turned to look at him sharply.  
"Chandler, you couldn't be a bad father if you tried," she argued emphatically. He looked at her skeptically, and she continued. "Look, the stuff I helped you with... that was textbook stuff. Feeding tips, different symptoms, general knowledge... all that you could have gotten by reading a book. Being a good father... you can't get that from a book, and you can't learn it. You either have it, or you don't. And you do. It stems from having a good heart, and no one in this world, Chandler Bing, can rival you in that department. You are an excellent father, and although I was partially surprised by that fact, I also understand it. I've seen you change before my eyes recently... we all have... and you are a wonderful father." Chandler was left speechless, taken aback by her sincere words. She blushed again and looked away, standing and dumping their empty food cartons into the garbage. He stood up, resolving to do something to at least put a definition to their relationship, and as she felt his presence right behind her, her breath caught in her throat and she tensed. She placed a hand on the counter as he placed one on her shoulder, gently turning her around so that she was facing him. They gazed into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity, Monica observing that although she was looking into what had become the most familiar and comforting eyes in her life, they suddenly held much more than consolation. As they stood, frozen in the center of his apartment, she noticed something new, something different in those intense sapphire eyes of his, and she wondered with apprehension if it was the same thing that she was certain flashed in her own eyes.  
"What's going on with us?" he whispered, frozen with anxiety at the waves that surged through his veins, making him feel flustered and caged in. He longed to discard the restraints that held him back, but at the same time, he clung to them, too afraid of what might happen if he was suddenly free. Monica gazed up at him, recognizing the question as the same one that had occupied her mind for quite some time, and shook her head slightly, indicating that she was just as insecure as he was. He recognized the look of combined fear, anticipation, and desire in her eyes, and he gazed at her, longing for the courage to lean in and kiss her. The possibility of such a kiss hung in the air between them, thickening it and making it seem as though it swirled about them. Unable to ignore the rising tension for a moment longer, Chandler reached up and stroked her cheek lightly, enjoying the feel of her silky smooth skin beneath his fingertips. Monica closed her eyes momentarily, lost at the sensation of his gentle touch. She opened them again and looked into his eyes once more, realizing for the first time just how badly she had fallen. As he leaned in to kiss her, she closed her eyes, anticipating the kiss that she now knew she had been awaiting. As his soft lips met hers, she felt her knees go weak and her pulse quicken as she wrapped her arms nervously around his neck. He moved his hand from her cheek and wrapped his arms around her waist, drawn in by the kiss that he had wanted for so long. The kiss deepened as Chandler hugged her to him tightly, and she let him press her body up against his as she opened her mouth. She let out a small sigh as his tongue entered her mouth, and she savored the intensity of the kiss as he lifted her off the ground, clasping her to him closely. She moved her hands up into his hair and noticed a moment later that he was walking toward the couch. She continued kissing him deeply, not wanting their lips to part. She knew that once they did, an explanation would have to eventually be offered and they would have to make a decision, and right now all she wanted was to be lost in the seeming haze that had enveloped them. As he laid her down on the couch, she kissed him eagerly, reassured when he returned her kisses with an equaled intensity. He slowly moved from her mouth to her neck, and she moaned softly as his soft kisses and hot breath flicked across the tender skin. She slowly unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands down his chest, trembling slightly when she felt his hands on her stomach under her shirt. He slowly slid them upwards, and as she felt herself becoming more and more wound up, she knew how badly she wanted him. Suddenly a cry broke through the air, and they pulled apart hastily, both momentarily dazed. As they realized that it was Jackson, they stared at each other for a moment before Chandler got up to check on him. As he entered the room, he stood for a moment next to the crib while he tried to calm himself down. He felt as though he were a can of carbonated soda that had been shaken up harshly, and instead of being opened and having the relief of exploding, had instead been placed on a counter to settle down again. He took a deep breath and leaned over, reaching into the crib to pick up the crying baby.  
  
"He asleep?" Monica asked ten minutes later when Chandler finally emerged from the bedroom. He nodded, unsure of what was to happen next. He had thought that the first kiss would be the hardest, but suddenly the second seemed so much more intimidating as he walked over and sat next to Monica on the couch once again. Each avoided the other's gaze, as they tried to hide the turbulent emotions that threatened to push them both over the edge. "I should probably go," Monica said after a moment, and Chandler, too afraid of rejection to ask her to stay, simply nodded resignedly. He stood up and walked her to the door. They smiled. They hugged. They parted on good terms. And they proceeded to avoid each other for two days. 


	2. Saturday Morning Surprise, Part Two

"Come on, Jack, buddy, calm down," Chandler pleaded as he tried to calm down the wailing baby. It was past midnight, and Jackson had awoken screaming, and had continued for over twenty minutes. Chandler gently rocked him in his arms, walking around the apartment, but the baby refused to be pacified. He looked down at him helplessly. "I don't know want you want, Jack," Chandler said sadly. "You're fed, you're dry... what more is there in a baby's life?" He grabbed a tissue and tried to wipe the baby's face, pausing when his hand brushed against Jack's skin. "Whoa," he said, slightly alarmed. "You feel really warm." He felt a wave of panic wash over him as he realized that his son might be sick. He looked helplessly around the apartment, wondering what on earth he should do. What could he do? He wasn't a doctor. He tried to fight the urge to ask Monica, but in the end desperation and panic emerged victorious and he timidly walked across the hall and into their apartment. He tried to at least quiet Jack's cries, knowing what an hostile person Rachel was when woken before dawn, but that worry was pushed to the back of his mind as he nervously rapped on Monica's bedroom door. "Mon?" She opened the door rather quickly, and Chandler guessed that she'd been awakened by Jack's cries. "I... He's burning up," he said in a scared voice. "I think he's sick or something. He won't stop crying. And I don't know what to do." Monica cut him off by gently taking Jack from his arms and feeling his forehead.  
"You're right," she said nodding. "He is burning up. Have you taken his temperature?" Chandler shook his head.  
"I don't have a thermometer."  
"We bought a baby thermometer," she reminded him. "It's in the medicine cabinet in your bathroom. Come on, I'll help." She followed Chandler back into his apartment and waited while he retrieved the thermometer, nodding as he held it toward her. "Okay, stick it in his ear," she directed.  
"His ear?"  
"Yeah. It's the easiest way to take a baby's temperature," she explained. He simply nodded and did as he was told. When it beeped, he removed it and read the reading.   
"100.8," he said, looking up with a panicked look. "What do we do?"  
"Calm down, it's probably just an ear infection or something," she told him gently. "We'll just call a pediatrician or someone," she decided.  
"It's almost one in the morning," he protested. "How are we going to get a hold of a pediatrician at one in the morning?"  
"Emergency Room," she replied simply. "There are always on-call pediatric residents. We can just call the ER and ask what we should do." Chandler nodded obediently and grabbed the phone. After calling information for the number, he dialed and listened to the woman who answered paging one of the on-call doctors. When the guy eventually picked up the phone, Chandler began screeching into the phone, on the verge of hysterics. Noticing his angst, Monica gently took the phone from him as she handed Jack over. Chandler allowed her to take over, and simply held his son, who was still crying and whose face was noticeably flushed.   
"It's going to be okay," he assured the baby, rocking him gently. "Daddy's here, everything's going to be just fine." He half-listened to Monica's calm voice as she talked to the doctor, and he felt partially guilty for waking her up in the middle of the night, but at the same time he felt relieved and glad that she was there. He'd missed her the past couple of days, and he had wondered when he'd get to talk to her again.   
"Okay," she said, hanging up the phone. "He said it's probably just a short fever, almost like a 24-hour bug or something, and that there's no need to take him to the ER unless his fever breaks 103, so he just said we should give him some baby Tylenol and put a cool cloth on his forehead until he falls asleep." Chandler nodded, still rocking Jackson nervously. "I'll get the Tylenol and the cloth," Monica said, disappearing into the bathroom and emerging a minute later. She gently made Jackson swallow the syrup as Chandler held onto him tightly, and then she placed the cool cloth over his head as he laid in his father's arms. Within ten minutes he had calmed down, and within fifteen he was asleep. Chandler was almost afraid to put him in his crib, but Monica's reassuring hand on his shoulder comforted him. "He's going to be just fine," she told him sincerely. "Babies get little fevers all the time. It's nothing serious." He simply nodded and walked into his room, carefully placing Jackson into his crib. He looked at him for a moment, and then returned to the living area, both relieved and tense to find Monica still there. "Just thought I'd stick around to say goodnight," she explained, feeling as though she needed to justify why she was still there. Chandler looked at her evenly, and after a moment she stood up from the barcalounger. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," she said awkwardly, and turned to leave.  
"Go out with me," Chandler blurted out, a touch of almost desperation evident in his voice. Monica turned to face him, confused.  
"What?" He cleared his throat nervously.  
"Go out with me," he repeated in a softer voice. "On a date. Let me take you out," he requested, gazing into her eyes once again. "Dinner or something." Monica was surprised by his invitation. Regardless of what had happened a few days earlier, Chandler actually asking her out on a date was something for which she was very unprepared. He began to get nervous when she didn't answer, and she recognized the uncomfortable way he shifted his weight, which she suddenly found endearing. She smiled, and noticed how his tension seemed to ease slightly when she did.  
"Okay. When?"  
"Uh... tomorrow?" She smiled.  
"Okay," she agreed again. He grinned.  
"Okay," he repeated. Still smiling, she turned and headed back to bed, her mind racing and her heart thumping.  
  
"Hi. It's me."  
"Hi, me."  
Pause. "I just wanted to ask about tonight."   
Chandler felt his heart leap into his throat. "She's going to cancel on me," he thought, panicked. "Yes?" he asked, trying to sound relatively normal.  
"I was just wondering... where are we going? I mean, I only ask so that I know what to wear... I don't want to be overdressed or underdressed or... well, wrongly dressed." She blushed, glad that he couldn't see her doing so.  
Chandler smiled as he pictured her blushing on the other end of the phone. "Dinner at Sorrentino's and then afterward, if you're up to it, a walk in Central Park." Monica smiled, liking this new side of him.  
"That sounds wonderful," she said, meaning every word. There was a pause on the other end of the phone.  
"You know what I just realized?"  
"What?" she asked.  
"I don't think we've ever spoken on the phone before." She grinned.  
"No, I don't think we have."  
"A week of firsts," he said, surprising even himself by saying it. She began to feel as though her face would crack if she didn't stop smiling, and she knew the only way to do so would be to get off the phone.  
"Okay, well... I had better go," she said quickly. "I'll see you at seven?"  
"Yep, you sure will," he agreed, and she could hear the excitement in his voice, glad that she wasn't the only one looking forward to tonight. She hung up the phone and headed toward the bathroom to take a bath.  
  
"Okay... diapers, bottles, baby food, wipes, change of clothes, bib, blanket... are you sure you're going to be okay?" Chandler asked nervously as he packed Jack's stuff into the baby bag.   
"Uh, well, I do know how to take care of a child," Ross answered sarcastically. "You know, I think I might even have one of my own lying around somewhere." Chandler nodded as he continued stuffing things into the sack. "Chill, dude, we'll be fine."  
"And you're sure you don't mind keeping him overnight? I just don't know what time we'll be back."  
"Of course I don't mind," Ross insisted. "Plus, it'd be stupid to wake him up just to take him home. Just come and pick him up in the morning," he said. "I don't have anywhere to be until one." Chandler nodded again.  
"Thanks again, man, for doing this."  
"Don't mention it," he replied. "What are friends for?" Chandler picked Jack up out of his playpen and kissed him lightly on the forehead.   
"Now you be good for Uncle Ross, okay? I don't want to hear that you've been giving him any lip." He paused. "Now, say goodbye to 'da-da.' Come on, Jack... I know it's in there. Da-da."  
"Da," Jackson answered dutifully, and Chandler grinned. He didn't know why he melted every time he heard it, being that Jackson had been saying it for almost a week already. He smiled again, pecked the baby on the forehead one more time, and handed him to Ross.  
"Okay, have fun, man. Don't do anything I'll have to kill you for," he warned jokingly, and Chandler grinned. He was surprised that Ross was taking this so well, but he was relieved and wasn't about to question it. He waved to the baby and sighed as they disappeared down the stairs. He went into his room and checked his reflection in his mirror once more before heading across the hall.  
  
"Well, hello, Chandler," Rachel said goofily as she opened the door. "Monica will be ready in just a moment. I'm her roommate, Rachel." Chandler rolled his eyes and entered the apartment.   
"Come on, Rach, gimme a break," he pleaded. She smiled.   
"Okay, okay, sorry, just had to get at least one in there."  
"Well, thank you so much," he said dryly. At that moment, Monica emerged from her bedroom and Chandler's sharp intake of breath was almost audible. He'd always known she was gorgeous, but somehow it was different when she was dressing up for him. When he realized that he was the one who would get to pull her chair out for her and hold the doors open for her, she suddenly looked somehow even more beautiful. Her short, deep blue dress fit her perfectly, and he could tell even from where he was standing that it made her eyes sparkle even bluer. While he was gazing at her, Monica was busy doing her own staring. She knew he was cute, but tonight, dressed up in a black suit, a deep blue shirt, and a black tie, he looked more than cute. He looked hot. She almost blushed as she thought of him as "hot" and quickly averted her gaze. He cleared his throat and held out the single white rose that he'd brought for her. She smiled and thanked him, and he looked pleased. They were both suddenly aware that Rachel was watching all of this with an eager look on her face, and Monica turned to Chandler.   
"Shall we go?"   
"Yes we shall," he replied smiling, and offered her his arm. She took it and turned to say goodnight to Rachel.  
"'Night guys," Rach responded, and couldn't resist adding to it: "Don't worry, I won't wait up!" Monica blushed and shot her a look as she walked out of the apartment. Rachel aimed a suggestive glance at Chandler as he exited behind her, and he, too, blushed as he closed the door behind him.  
  
As they walked through Central Park a few hours later, Monica shivered slightly as a cool breeze danced around them. Having noticed, Chandler quickly removed his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. She smiled up at him gratefully, and he grinned easily back down at her. Both of them were almost afraid to speak, not wanting to disturb the magic that seemed to surround them. The cool breeze carried with it the sweet smell that lingered of a warm spring day, and the grass around them was damp with the evening dew. The night sky was clear, and a blanket of stars were scattered carelessly throughout the sky, as though someone had sprinkled salt over a sheet of black velvet. Chandler nervously put his arm around her shoulder, and felt relieved when she looked up and smiled at him again, placing hers around his waist. They walked on in silence, simply basking in the comfort that surrounded them. They were both thinking, as they walked through the peaceful park, how oddly easy it seemed. Both had been apprehensive about what was in store for them, being that they'd been friends for so long, but that seemed only to help the situation. There was no need, as was often the case on first dates, for pointless small-talk, or comments to fill the silences. They were familiar enough with each other to allow the silence to linger, and that alone delighted both of them. As they reached the spot in the park where they decided to turn around, Chandler stopped Monica and stood facing her, still silent. They gazed at each other as they had before, although this time all apprehension had vanished. There was, in its place, only a look of contentment and relief that seemed to say, "finally." As Chandler gently tucked a wisp of hair behind Monica's ear, she felt herself shiver, not at the cold but at the energy that had surged through her at his touch. He looked at her intently, almost as though he was giving her the opportunity to back away -- a ridiculous notion and both of them knew it. He looked at her tenderly, his eyes glistening in the moonlight, and he smiled slightly as hers shone back up at him. He stroked her cheek, and she was pleased to find that the sensation that she had felt last time once again surged through her body, and she gazed at him expectantly. He leaned in toward her and she closed her eyes, anticipating the moment when his lips would meet hers again. Instead, she felt his lips against her forehead as he murmured into her skin, "I'm crazy about you, ya know." She felt her heart flutter as she sighed. His words were genuine and adorable, and she could feel her stomach churning in anticipation as he pulled away from her forehead to gaze at her once again.  
"I'm crazy about you, too," she replied, and smiled slightly when he grinned in relief. His smile faded as he looked at her intently, taking her face in his hands. She faced him eagerly.  
"No interruptions this time," he said, causing her to laugh slightly. He smiled briefly and their lips met again in a much-awaited kiss.  
  
"Thank you for a wonderful evening, Chandler," she said with a smile as they stood between the apartments. He grinned.  
"Bet you never thought my name would be tacked on the end of that statement, huh?" She smiled and looked away, embarrassed.  
"Well, maybe once or twice." He looked at her, surprised, and then looked away, equally embarrassed. After a moment, he turned to face her.   
"You want to come over for coffee?" She turned and looked at him, and smiled when she saw his anxious expression. "After all," he added, "it's been awhile since I haven't been on bottle or diaper duty." She laughed and nodded, following him into his apartment.  
She entered and sat in his barcalounger, watching as he bent over to look in the fridge. "Where's Joey?" she asked, trying not to sound as though there was any implication in her words.  
"Date," he replied simply. "You'd be surprised how rarely he actually sleeps here. This is more like a simple resting place in between dates." Monica laughed and watched as he stood up, looking slightly put out. "Okay, this is going to sound kind of pathetic," he warned, "but the only milk I have is Jack's milk. So... we can either try that," he said grimacing, "or we can drink something else." She grinned.   
"I'm actually not that thirsty," she confessed.  
"Really?" he asked, slightly surprised as he shut the fridge door. "Me either." They remained where they were for an awkward moment before Monica rose from where she was sitting. She moved toward the door, and Chandler's hopes fell as he thought she was leaving. He was surprised, therefore, when she stopped directly in front of him. She looked up at him for a moment, and then calmly reached up and kissed him gently. He was momentarily surprised, being that it was the first kiss that she had initiated, but he got over it as he wrapped his arms around her waist. They stood there, in the kitchen, kissing hungrily for what must have been ten minutes, simply enjoying the feeling of being together. Then, finally, she pulled away and looked up into his eyes, in which the yearning mirrored what she was feeling. Slowly, shyly, she played with his tie. Then, after a moment of deliberation, she slowly backed away from him, pulling him along with her by his tie. He was again surprised, but again he didn't hesitate to follow her lead. She timidly backed up, pulling her with him, until she was standing outside his bedroom door, where she stopped. He then took the initiative, leaning in to kiss her again, sighing into her mouth as he felt her tongue entwine with his own, a sensation that was becoming pleasingly familiar to him. He gently led her into his room, where they stood next to his bed, kissing heatedly. She loosened his tie and once again found herself unbuttoning his shirt, this time pushing it off his shoulders and onto the floor. She ran her hands over his shoulders and she felt his roaming over her back, eventually finding her zipper. The teeth separated as he slowly unzipped it, and before he slid the dress off, he broke the kiss and looked down at her, his face serious. She looked back up at him, worried that he was going to stop and say that it was a mistake. As he looked at her thoughtfully, she silently pleaded with her eyes for him to tell her what he was thinking. After a moment, his husky voice filled the room.  
"You know I'm going to make love to you, right?" She nodded, feeling energized by the fact that he'd said it out loud. He looked at her for a moment longer before speaking again. "Tell me it's what you want, Monica. Tell me you want this." Her heart melted as she saw the pleading and concerned look in his eyes, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, drawing her body up to his.   
"I want this," she whispered softly into his ear. "I want you." That was all he needed, and his mouth captured hers again as he slid her dress off her shoulders and lowered her onto the bed.  
  
As he woke the next morning, he smiled when he realized that Monica was still asleep in his arms. He looked lovingly at the way her dark hair fanned out on the pillow behind her and the small smile that played upon her lips, and he wondered what she was dreaming about. He realized with satisfaction that he could spend hours just watching her sleep. The opportunity to do so wasn't granted, however, when she stirred and opened her eyes, blinking in the sunlight that seeped through his window. She turned to see whether or not he was still asleep, and smiled when she saw him gazing down at her. "Haven't slept this late in awhile, I bet," she mused as she saw Jackson's crib in the corner of the room. He grinned.  
"You'd win that bet," he replied. "Speaking of which," he said, looking over at his bedside clock, "I have to pick him up in an hour or less." She stretched.   
"You know," she said thoughtfully, "one of these days we're going to have to thank that kid."  
"For what?" Chandler asked absently as he stroked her hair.  
"For getting us together," she answered. He smiled.  
"Yeah... I guess we will."  
  
*LET ME KNOW IF I SHOULD CONTINUE IT... I HAVE A FEW IDEAS ON HOW I COULD TAKE IT IN DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS... GIVE ME YOUR OPINION! THANKS!*  
  



	3. Saturday Morning Surprise, Part Three

"He's eight months old," Chandler told his mother as she cooed over Jackson three weeks later.  
"I can't believe I have a grandson," Nora Bing gushed as she made silly faces at the baby. "I'm your grandma," she told him. "Aren't you a handsome one?"  
"Well, like father, like son," Chandler muttered from the kitchen, where he stood next to Monica as she stirred the spaghetti sauce.  
"I can't argue with that," she said with a grin as she reached up and pecked him on the cheek. He grinned back down at her, and sighed again as he glanced over his shoulder at his mother, who was entertaining Jackson.  
"I think I should take him from her," he said aloud as he grabbed a piece of bread from the countertop.  
"Why?" Monica asked absently as she looked intently at her sauce, debating about whether or not to add more pepper.  
"Because... I have seen firsthand the damage that woman can do to children. Hell, I'm living proof!" Monica chuckled, but silenced when she saw his somber expression.  
"Chandler," she said sighing, "it's going to be fine. Just try to have a good time this evening, okay? She is, after all, your mother. And either way, by midnight she'll be back at her hotel and tomorrow morning she'll be on her way to Paris." He sighed and buried his face in her neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist.  
"I think," came the muffled voice, "that by midnight I'm going to be ready for some fun that will take my mind off of my mother." She grinned.  
"Is that an invitation to stay overnight?" she asked coyly. He grinned, eyes twinkling, and leaned in to murmur in her ear.  
"That's an OPEN invitation," he told her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine as he released her. As she regained her senses, she turned to look at Nora and Jackson.  
"Well," she said after a moment, "it's not like you can blame her for being impressed with him. After all, he IS adorable." Chandler grinned.  
"Yeah, he is," he agreed proudly, and walked into the living room to supervise his mother's entertainment of his son.   
  
"Well, thank you for dinner, Monica, dear, it was wonderful to see you again," Nora said as Chandler helped her into her coat. "And don't you let my son give you too much trouble, you hear?"   
"I won't, Nora," Mon replied, smiling. Chandler kissed her on the cheek and she was gone, ordering him to watch "that grandson of hers" as she walked away. He closed the door and leaned against it, sighing.  
"Well, that was relatively painless," he said after a moment. Monica grinned, pulling him back to a standing position as she went behind him and began rubbing his shoulders. "Mmm... that feels good," he murmured, rolling his head to stretch out his neck.  
"Why do you get so tense when she comes around?" Monica asked curiously. "I mean, I'm no stranger to parent-related anxiety, but she's really not that bad."  
"No, I know she's not," Chandler agreed. "It's just that... I almost feel as though sometimes I'm more responsible than my own mother, and I just... I really don't like that feeling." She nodded sympathetically. "I guess..." He sighed resignedly. "I guess it's just that, especially now, when I see her, I remember how much I hated my childhood. And now that I'm the parent... I just worry that I'm going to screw up Jack's life. That's all."  
"Oh, Chandler," she said softly. "You're not like your parents. You're going to give that kid a wonderful childhood, I know it." She paused, wondering whether she should continue, eventually deciding that she would. "And I fully intend on being around to help you do it." When he heard those words, he felt as though he could happily melt right there and then. He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the mouth, and as he pulled away she grinned. "Why don't you go over to your place and get Jack ready for bed. I'll clean up here and meet you over there, okay?" Chandler nodded, kissing her again and picking up his son.  
"Come on, pal," he said. "We know when we're not wanted." Mon smiled and rolled her eyes as the two exited, turning to deal with the pots and plates.   
  
As he finished changing Jack's diaper, he picked him up and walked into the living room, deep in thought. He placed the baby on one of the barcaloungers and knelt in front of him. "I promise you," he said gently as he looked into the baby's sky blue eyes. "I promise that I will do anything in my power to make sure you're happy," he vowed. "Anything and everything." Jackson smiled, reaching his hand toward Chandler's face.  
"Da," he said proudly, and yawned, rubbing his eye with one of his tiny fists. Chandler smiled and stood up, lifting the baby with him. He walked over to the stereo, scanning his CD collection until he found the right one, and placed it in the player. As the beginning chords of the song began, he laid down on the couch and placed the baby facedown on his stomach, lightly brushing his fine hair with his fingers. He smiled as he heard the baby heave a small sigh and closed his eyes.  
  
Close your eyes,  
Have no fear.  
The monster's gone,  
He's on the run,  
And your daddy's here.  
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,  
Beautiful boy.  
  
Before you go to sleep,  
Say a little prayer.  
Every day, in every way,  
It's getting better and better.  
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,  
Beautiful boy.  
  
Out on the ocean,  
Sailing away.  
I can hardly wait  
To see you come of age.  
But I guess we'll both just have to be patient.  
'Cause it's a long way to go.  
A hard row to hoe.  
Yes, it's a long way to go,  
But in the meantime.  
  
Before you cross the street,  
Take my hand.  
Life is what happens to you   
While you're busy making other plans.  
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,  
Beautiful boy.  
  
Before you go to sleep,  
Say a little prayer.  
Every day in every way,   
it's getting better and better.  
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,  
Beautiful boy.  
  
Monica stood near the counter, gazing at the heartwarming scene with a small smile on her lips. She didn't want to disturb them, and she wished she had a photograph of the two of them, although she knew that it was a sight she wouldn't soon forget. As the lyrics died down, Chandler opened his eyes slowly and smiled when he saw Monica standing nearby. "Hey, you," he said in a low voice. She smiled back and nodded toward Jackson.  
"He asleep?"  
"I think so," Chandler replied after a moment, and gently stood up, trying not to wake the baby. "I'll put him in bed," he said softly. He walked toward what used to be Joey's room but had become Jack's when Joey had offered to move in with Ross to give them more room. Monica sighed, her heart still warm from the image of father and son dozing together. Chandler emerged and she smiled. He offered her a small one in return, and went back to his CD player, hitting some buttons until he found another song on the disc. As it began, he walked over to her and took her gently into his arms, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his neck.  
  
All my little plans and schemes  
Gone like some forgotten dream.  
Seems like all I really was doing  
Was waiting for you.  
  
Just like little girls and boys  
Playing with their little toys.  
Seems like all we really were doing  
Was waiting for love.  
  
No need to be alone,  
No need to be alone.  
It's real love, yes it's real.  
Yes it's real love, it's real.  
  
From this moment on I know  
Exactly where my life will go,  
Seems like all I really was doing  
Was waiting for love.  
  
Thought I'd been in love before  
But in my heart I wanted more.  
Seems like all I really was doing  
Was waiting for you.  
  
No need to be afraid,  
No need to be afraid,  
It's real love, yes, it's real.  
Yes, it's real love, yes it's real.  
  
As she gazed up at him, basking in the happiness that had suddenly taken over her life, the song drew to a close and he bent down and kissed her lovingly. She kissed him back, treasuring the feeling of being with him. Everything about him... the way he held her, the way he kissed her, the way he made love to her... she couldn't imagine anything better, and as the kiss broke he noticed that she had tears in her eyes. He smiled, recognizing them as happy tears, and gently kissed her forehead. "I love you," he murmured, causing the tears to spill. She gazed up at him, finally feeling like her life was perfect.   
"I love you, too," she told him, smiling at the broad grin that took over his formerly serious face and standing on her tiptoes to kiss him again.  
"Well, Mr. Bing," she said, pulling back and looking into his eyes. "Whatever happened to that invitation?" He grinned and scooped her up into his arms.  
"Your invitation awaits you," he said with a grin, carrying her into his room.  
  
"Happy birthday, Jack," Chandler read off the cake Monica had baked. He grinned as he admired the bear Mon had drawn out of icing. "It's great, sweetheart," he said, kissing her gently. "You think he'll like it?" Monica asked nervously, picking up the cake and sliding in into Chandler's fridge.   
"Are you kidding? I think we'll be lucky if he even registers that it's got anything on it before he's wearing most of it," Chandler mused. As Monica glowered slightly, he chuckled, pulling her into his arms. "I think he'll love it," he assured her. She smiled, and leaned in to kiss him as Ross and Joey entered with Jack.  
"We're back!" Ross greeted as they closed the door.  
"There's the birthday boy!" Monica said with a smile as Jack grinned and clapped his hands. Although he didn't entirely register what was going on, he knew that he was getting lots of attention and loving it. "Okay," she said, turning to the three guys. "Why don't you," she said pointing to Joey, "find my camera. You," she said, pointing to Ross, "go get Rachel and Phoebe. And you," she said pointing to Chandler, "get him changed so that we can give him his cake and presents." As they all fanned out to complete their assigned tasks, Monica sighed as she cleared her frosting tools off the counter. Moments later, Chandler emerged from his room, carrying a freshly dressed Jackson.  
"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I don't know why I bother putting him into clean clothes. They're about to get trashed anyway." Monica laughed.  
"Because," she argued, "I want him to at least look nice for the before pictures." Chandler sighed, once again going along with what he was told. He had learned, oftentimes the hard way, not to argue with Monica when she had an opinion about something, and he trusted her especially when it came to Jackson.   
Twenty minutes later, as anticipated, Jack was covered in icing and chocolate cake and was laughing as he played with the ribbon off of one of his gifts.  
"You know," Chandler said dejectedly as he watched his son, "I thought that whole idea of kids' fascination with wrapping materials and boxes was a myth. I guess it would have been just as well to get him a cardboard box after all." Monica laughed and ruffled his hair lovingly.  
"You're too cute," she said with a smile as she stood up to clear away the cake plates. As Chandler attempted to wipe at least some of the cake from Jack's face, there was a knock on the door. "Could you get that, sweetheart?" Monica asked, her hands immersed in soapy water. Chandler nodded and stood up, placing the frosting-covered cloth on the table. As he opened the door, he felt his heart leap into his throat and his breath catch in his chest as he realized that there, on the other side of his door, looking anxious and uncomfortable, was Kathy.  
  
*I'LL CONTINUE IF PEOPLE WANT ME TO! LET ME KNOW! NOTE: BOTH OF THE SONGS USED IN THIS FIC ARE BY JOHN LENNON: "BEAUTIFUL BOY (DARLING BOY)" AND "REAL LOVE" THANKS FOR READING!*  
  
  



	4. Saturday Morning Surprise, Part Four

"Ka-- Kathy?" Chandler was only dimly aware of the sound of Monica dropping a plate into the sink, and almost immediately she was beside him, staring at Kathy.  
"Hi, Chandler," Kathy said nervously, fidgeting with the hem of her coat. She uneasily looked at them, as they both stared at her, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. "Do you, uh... mind if I come in?" she asked quietly. Unable to speak, Chandler simply shook his head and stepped back, holding the door open for her. As she made her way into the kitchen, Monica glared at her back, wondering why on earth she had shown up. Kathy glanced uneasily around the apartment, which was still decked out with birthday decorations. A broad smile took over her face as she spied Jack, still playing with the birthday ribbon, oblivious to her presence. "Jackson!" she said, bending down and looking at him. She gently brushed his hair away from his face and touched his cheek. "Oh, you've grown so much!" she remarked as he stared at her momentarily with no recollection of who she was and then returned his focus to the knot of ribbon. She slowly stood again, her eyes still on the baby.  
"Kathy," Chandler eventually managed, having regained control of his ability to speak. "What are you doing here?"  
She turned to face him, the anxious look returning to her face. "I-- I've come for Jackson," she said quietly.  
"What?!" he practically yelled, incredulous. "What do you mean, you've come for Jackson?"  
"I came back for my son," she replied, almost defensively as she stood before Chandler and Monica.  
"Yeah, well, he's my son, too. I've been raising him for the past six months, I'm his father, and this is his home. You gave him up... hell, you ABANDONED him on my doorstep! If you think for one minute that I'm ever going to let him go, you're out of your mind."  
"Please, Chandler," she interrupted, not wanting to argue with him. "I know that what I did six months ago probably just looks like irresponsibility or selfishness, but you have to understand... I was virtually broke. I barely had enough money to feed myself, let alone take care of a child. I knew that you would be able to take care of him, and that's the reason that I left him with you. Look, I know you probably think I'm an unfit mother or something, but I'm not. I did what I thought was best for my son, and now I'm ready to be his mother again."  
"Oh, how convenient," Monica retorted, glaring at her. She had hated Kathy for breaking Chandler's heart the first time, and here she was trying to do it again. Kathy turned to face her, a challenging look on her face.  
"Excuse me, but how exactly is this your business?" she asked icily.  
"Chandler's happiness is my business," she replied, placing an arm around his waist. "And you're messing with that," she added. Choosing to ignore Monica's comments, she turned to face Chandler once again.  
"Look, Chandler," she said in a soft voice. "I've missed out on six months of his life that I can never get back. I'm not going to miss out on any more."   
"No," Chandler replied stubbornly. "Look, it's not like I've just been raising him and hoping that one day you'd come back and take him off my hands. Sure, at first, I was scared stiff at the idea of raising a child. But now... he is everything to me, and you're not taking him away. Maybe we can work out some agreement where you can see him once a week or whatever, but this is his home and I'm not letting him go." Kathy sighed and averted her eyes nervously.  
"Well, it's not that simple," she said quietly.   
"What do you mean, 'it's not that simple?'"  
"I-- I'm not living in New York."  
Chandler's eyes narrowed as he stared at her, a mixture of anger and wariness playing in his icy blue eyes. "What?" he said, barely above a whisper.  
"Well, um--" Kathy nervously glanced at Monica, who was simply shooting her a look that could have burned a hole right through her, and almost immediately returned her gaze to Chandler's expectant face. "You remember Nick?"  
"Vividly," Chandler answered dryly.  
"Well, Nick and I-- we got married a few months ago. We live out in L.A. He landed a part in an independent movie that's filming out there... I only came to New York to get Jackson," she finished meekly, uneasy about what his reaction would be. Her anxiety increased when he said nothing, instead only glaring at her coldly.  
"You've got some nerve," he eventually managed, and his tone of voice was unfamiliar to her. She'd never heard his voice sound the way it did at that moment: a combination of hatred and fury, although both were tempered by his even voice, which she was sure was merely the calm before the storm. She noted the way his blue eyes flashed, and she wondered how this was all going to end.  
As he stood in front of her, feeling himself getting angrier, Chandler tried to think of something articulate and effective to say, but nothing sprang to his mind except the blind rage that he was sure his eyes and stance conveyed. He couldn't believe she had the audacity to suggest taking Jack away from him, especially after all this time. He almost visibly flinched as she spoke again.  
"We can give him a good life now," she contended. "I can watch my son grow up, like a mother should be able to."  
"The closest thing he's got to a mother," Chandler retorted wryly, "is Monica." He felt her arm, which was still around his waist, tighten slightly as she stood silently next to him. After shooting another irritated look at Mon, she sighed.  
"I know I've surprised you by showing up unannounced," Kathy said amicably, "so I'm just going to go. Chandler," she said ruefully, "I've come for my son, and I'm not leaving New York without him."  
"Over my dead body," Chandler snarled to her retreating figure. As she closed the door behind her, Chandler felt his emotions hit him suddenly, and his eyes began to sting.   
"Chandler," Monica said softly, but he ignored her, knowing that if he discussed it, he would lose his cool. Instead, he walked over to Jackson and lifted him off the floor, hugging him tightly, oblivious to the chocolate icing that was being smeared across the front of his shirt.  
"Don't worry, Jack," he whispered reassuringly. "I promised you I'd be here for you, and I will. I'll never let you go." Jack grinned and placed his sticky hand on Chandler's cheek, causing his father to smile, if only briefly, for the first time since Kathy had shown up.  
  
Two days later, Chandler was bathing Jackson with Monica's help. Since Kathy's spontaneous arrival, he had heard from her once, on the phone, telling him that she would be willing to work out a situation where he could see Jackson on some holidays. Chandler had angrily turned her down, refusing to even consider the idea of only seeing his son at certain times of year. He told her once again that he wasn't about to let her take Jack away from him, or from his home.   
"Want your duckie?" Monica asked, grinning at Jack as he reached for the rubber duck. As Chandler gently ran a washcloth over Jack's back, he heard a faint knock on the door. "I'll get it," he said, handing Mon the cloth and shaking the excess water off his hands, quickly drying them on a towel as he left the bathroom. He opened the apartment door to reveal a somewhat short, somewhat fat, and somewhat bald man on the other side dressed in a suit. "Can I help you?" he said warily. Last time someone had come to the door in a suit, Joey had somehow managed to end up with only one encyclopedia.  
"You Chandler Bing?" the man asked.  
"Yeah, that's me."  
"Okay. Delivery for you. Sign here, please." Chandler did so, and accepted the manila envelope that the man handed him. "Have a nice day," the man said cheerfully, and walked away. Chandler closed the door and looked at the envelope in his hands, carefully tearing off the flap to see what it was. Monica emerged from the bathroom with Jackson wrapped in a towel and walked over to him.   
"Who was it, sweetheart?" When he didn't answer, Monica glanced at the paper he was reading. "What's that?"  
"Legal documents," Chandler said in a quiet, strangled voice. "Kathy's suing me for custody of Jack."  
"She's doing WHAT?!" Chandler remained silent, knowing that she'd heard him, and continued reading the paper. Monica stepped closer to him, trying to see what it said. "Wha-- How-- When--" She tried to come up with a meaningful question, but her mind was awhirl and she found that she could do nothing more than stare at him intently and await his reaction. Moments later, he angrily threw the envelope and the papers across the room, wishing that it were that simple to get rid of the problem itself. He turned to face Monica and wordlessly took Jack from her arms, kissing him lightly on the head.  
"Time for bed," he said in a dull voice, and went into the baby's room to dress him, with Monica following close behind.  
  
"I can't lose him," he whispered into Monica's hair as they laid in bed together, his voice trembling. She gently ran her hands soothingly over his t-shirt and could feel his steady heartbeat.   
"You won't lose him," she replied reassuringly. "You're his father, and he belongs here, with you." Chandler sighed, wishing he could believe her. The possibility that he might lose his son made him feel as though someone was wringing out his lungs, and he fought back the tears of worry that threatened to surface. Monica lifted her head to look into his eyes, detecting his fear and distress. "It's going to be okay," she promised him. "It will be." He nodded, hoping that she was right, both for Jackson's sake as well as for his own.  
  
As Chandler sat in his apartment with Jack a week later, he fidgeted nervously with his tie. It seemed like the week had flown by, and suddenly it was the day of their first court date. As he gazed at his son, who was fidgeting with the collar of his shirt, he felt a pang of grief as he acknowledged that the possibility existed that Jackson might be taken away from him. He almost immediately pushed the thought aside, knowing that if he allowed himself to fully consider it, he would break down then and there. "You guys ready?" Chandler was torn away from his misery by Monica's voice. She was standing at the door, dressed and carrying her purse. "The guys are downstairs waiting," she said gently. Chandler stood and nodded. He was grateful that his friends were willing to go with him and support him, as well as that they had agreed to attest to his credibility as a stable father figure for Jackson. He grabbed the baby bag and followed Monica out of the flat.  
  
"All rise, honorable Andrew J. Mitchell presiding," the bailiff announced, and everyone in the courtroom obediently stood. "Be seated," he directed once the judge had taken his seat on the bench.  
"Okay," he said, donning his glasses and reading a paper on the table in front of him. "Case number 28974, Kathy Larson v. Chandler Bing for custody of a one Jackson Carter Bing, minor." He looked up and surveyed those present in the courtroom. "I take it that both plaintiff and defendant are present and are in the company of their respective legal representatives?"  
"Yes, your honor," Kathy's lawyer replied. "Jake Lipscomb."  
"Yes, sir," Chandler's mimicked. "Gregory Turner."  
"Very well," Judge Mitchell answered. "Court is in session. Now, as I understand it, the child is currently living with Mr. Bing, is that correct?" Chandler felt his lawyer nudge him in the side, and he cleared his throat nervously.  
"Um, yes, your honor. He lives with me." The judge nodded and looked once again at the papers in front of him.   
"And how long has he been in your care, Mr. Bing?"  
"About six months, sir." Judge Mitchell nodded again.   
"Okay, from what I can gather, Mr. Bing was unaware that he had a son until six months after the child was born, at which time said child was left in his care by the mother, Mrs. Larson, who was at the time unable to continue caring for the child. Now, six months later, Mrs. Larson has returned to reclaim her son on the grounds that she can now provide him with a stable home, is that correct?"  
"Yes, your honor," both Kathy and Chandler mumbled, noting that neither of them came off particularly well or particularly badly in the judge's synopsis.  
"All right, then," the judge said, placing the papers back down on his table. "We'll pick up from there then, shall we? Mrs. Larson, please explain to the court why you believe yourself able to provide this child with a secure home now, when six months ago you were forced to leave him behind." Kathy took a deep breath, throwing a nervous glance at Chandler and then facing the judge.  
"Well, your honor, six months ago I was more or less entirely broke. I had no job, no money, and was on the verge of losing my apartment. I didn't have the means to support a child, and I thought that it would be in Jackson's best interest to leave him with Chandler. Mr. Bing. His father."  
"Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but Mr. Bing had no knowledge of the fact that he even had a son, is that correct?"  
"Yes, sir," Kathy replied.  
"And why exactly is that?" the judge asked.  
"Well," she answered, "by the time I found out that I was pregnant, we had already broken up, and I didn't think he'd even want a child, so I just didn't tell him. But when I ran into all the problems, I left Jackson with his father, believing that it was in his best interest. Now, however, I'm married, I have a good home, a good job, and I know that I can provide my son with everything he needs." She looked intently at the judge as she finished her speech, awaiting his next question. He simply nodded and turned toward Chandler.  
"Mr. Bing, what exactly do you think of all this?" Chandler was surprised by the casual nature of his question, and it took him a minute to think of a suitable answer.  
"I'm upset, sir," he admitted. "I've been raising that child, my son, for six months. I love him. I can't imagine my life without him. And I'm angry that suddenly I run that risk. She," he said, referring to Kathy, "dumped him on my doorstep with a note and not much else. Not only can I not imagine my life without my son, I can't imagine what might happen to him if she gets him."  
"Your honor," Kathy interrupted, "I wasn't abandoning my son on the doorstep of some stranger. I knew Chandler could take care of him better than I could at the time, and that's why I did what I did." The judge held up his hands and nodded quietly, taking it all in. He always hated custody cases where it was obvious that neither parent was in any way unsuitable; it was always so difficult to have to choose between two loving parents, knowing that both deserved to be able to care for their child. He sighed, knowing that was exactly the type of situation he faced.  
  
"Chandler is a wonderful father," Monica declared as she faced the judge. "He is a loving, caring, doting father, and there is nothing that he wouldn't do for his son." She threw a reassuring smile at Chandler, and he almost felt hopeful as she did so.   
"And your relationship with Mr. Bing is...?"  
"I'm his girlfriend," she replied evenly. The judge nodded.  
"He deserves that baby," Monica continued, unaffected by the interruption. "Not only does he deserve him, but it would be wrong to remove Jackson from his home. That boy adores his father, and he's happy and settled. He didn't even recognize Kathy when she showed up." She noted with satisfaction the way Kathy flinched slightly at that, and she hoped that the judge had as well.  
"Thank you, Miss Geller," Judge Mitchell said, and she nodded and returned to her row of benches, once again taking Jackson into her lap.  
"Court will recess until tomorrow at noon," he said decidedly, "at which point I will read my decision. Court adjourned." At the sound of the gavel hitting the desk, Chandler immediately rose and reached out toward Monica, taking Jackson into his arms. Ever since he'd received the court papers, he'd become almost attached to his son, feeling the need to hold him whenever he had the chance. Monica obligingly handed him over and Chandler smiled faintly as Jackson grinned up at him and placed his small hands on his father's cheeks. Monica smiled and linked her arm through Chandler's as they left the courtroom together.   
  
"Coming!" Monica shifted her weight nervously as she stood outside the hotel room door. As the door opened, Kathy's eyes narrowed and her smile faded somewhat. "Monica," she said, the surprise evident in her voice. "What are you doing here?" Mon cleared her throat nervously.  
"I was, uh, wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes," she answered timidly. She was fully aware of the fact that Kathy wasn't particularly fond of her, especially now, and she wouldn't have been surprised if she'd simply slammed the door in her face. She was somewhat surprised, therefore, when Kathy held the door open for her and stepped back, silently inviting her in. Monica nodded her gratitude and entered the hotel room.   
"I take it this has to do with Chandler?" Kathy said, not wanting to waste any time. Monica nodded.  
"Look, Kathy, I understand why you're doing what you're doing. I mean, I understand that you want to raise your son, but so does Chandler."  
"Monica, I don't want to hurt Chandler--"  
"Then don't."  
"--but it's not that simple."  
"Why not?"  
"Because... Jackson is my son, and I love him. I can't bear the thought of missing out on his life, so I am going to do everything in my power to get him back." Monica sighed, realizing that she was getting nowhere.  
"Kathy," she tried again. "Jack is Chandler's life. He lives for that baby's happiness... if he loses him, it's going to break his heart. I'm begging you... please don't do that to him. You broke his heart once. Don't do it again." Kathy sighed.  
"Monica--"  
"Jack doesn't even know who you are," Monica continued. "What do you think is going to happen if you take him away from his home, now that he's old enough to have some idea of what's going on around him. Don't you think that's going to hurt him as well?" Kathy remained silent, not knowing what to say. Mon sighed. "Please," she said once more. "Please don't do this to Chandler. Or to Jack. Please." She let herself out and took a deep breath as she leaned against the hallway outside the room, praying that Kathy would do the right thing.  
  
"Court is in session." Monica felt Chandler's hand tighten around hers, and she looked into his face. Although his gaze was directed toward the judge, she could see the anxiety and the pain in his clear blue eyes, and she hoped that it would soon be relieved. She had decided that, instead of sitting in one of the rows of benches, she would sit beside Chandler for at least some level of support. His eyes were fixed on the judge and, after a moment, Monica followed his gaze. The judge cleared his throat. "Before I read my verdict," he began, "I would like to take this opportunity to say a few things. Firstly, although this decision was a hard one, I felt comforted in knowing that, whatever my decision, this boy will no doubt be taken care of and loved in a stable environment. Too often it is the other way around, and a judge is forced to choose the more stable of two unstable households. This is obviously not the case here, and I am glad that the boy has two loving parents." He paused and took off his glasses, playing with the earpiece and addressing the court once again. "I have met with the child," he continued, "and it is obvious, Mr. Bing, that you have done a wonderful job raising him. I found him to be well-adjusted and happy... not an easy feat in this day and age, and I commend you."  
"Thank you," Chandler mumbled, hoping that the judge's praise was a good omen.  
"However--" When the word was uttered, Monica felt Chandler stiffen and grip her hand, his breath caught in his chest. "The courts are always hesitant to separate mother and child, especially in cases where the child in question is so young. In light of this, the court finds in favor of the plaintiff, Mrs. Larson. Mr. Bing will have visitation rights on odd holidays, to be determined at a later date. The child will be placed in the custody of Mrs. Larson within 24 hours. Court adjourned." Chandler made a strangled noise. Never had he felt such intense pain as he did at that moment. It felt as though someone had stabbed him through the heart, leaving him pained and helpless. He looked around desperately, and his eyes fell on Jackson, sitting in Rachel's lap playing with a stuffed animal. He pushed past Monica's concerned eyes, knowing that if he allowed himself to feel the pain that was building up in his heart, he would collapse. He went over to Rachel, took Jack from her arms, and held onto him tightly, burying his face into the baby's stomach as he held him in his arms. He hid his burning tears and sat down on the bench, rocking slightly and feeling his happiness vanish, with a promise that the leftover pain was there to stay.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED SOON! PLEASE REVIEW! THANKS! :)  



	5. Saturday Morning Surprise, Part Five

OKAY, SORRY THAT THIS PART TOOK SO LONG... SPRING IS CRAZY, SEMESTER'S DRAWING TO A CLOSE, I'M BUSY WITH SOCCER... WHAT CAN I SAY? ANYWAY, THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS... PLEASE LEAVE ONE AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! AND THANKS FOR READING!  
  
Monica stood staring at Chandler's closed apartment door, debating about whether or not to go in. He had told her that he just wanted to be alone with Jackson -- a request that she understood, but at the same time she was worried about him. He'd just been told that he had to give up his son, the son that had changed his entire life in six short months, and he'd holed himself up in his apartment with Jack. Monica stayed where she was, hesitant to go in, but her concern for Chandler eating away at her. She wanted to walk inside and wrap her arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be all right, but at the same time she knew that there was no way he'd believe her, and she couldn't blame him. How could she make him believe that everything would be all right when he'd had his heart broken? She sighed and resignedly stepped up to the door, knocking lightly. When there was no answer, she pushed the door open gently and scanned the dim apartment. Realizing that, given the hour, Jack was probably asleep, she walked quietly toward his bedroom and peeked inside. Chandler was sitting next to Jack's crib watching him sleep, unaware of Monica's presence. "Hey, you," she whispered after a moment. Chandler looked at her and said nothing, simply nodding and returning his gaze toward his son. Monica's heart went out to him in the moment he looked at her, as she could see the pain that was clearly written across his face and that filled his eyes. She wordlessly went over to stand behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders and looking at the baby. As she lightly rubbed his shoulders, she felt him take a shaky breath, and she bent down and kissed the top of his head lightly. He suddenly turned and wrapped his arms around her waist tightly, burying his face in her stomach. She rubbed his back, wishing that there was some way that she could ease his pain, but knowing that there was only one thing that would make him happy, and that possibility had been ripped away from him only hours before. She noticed a moment later that he was shaking slightly, and she tightened her grip around him. As his shaking turned to quiet sobs, she realized that she had never seen Chandler cry, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out what to do to comfort him. "Shh," she said gently, running her hands through his hair and rubbing his back.  
"Holidays," he whispered shakily. "How am I going to live with just seeing him on holidays?" Monica sighed, recognizing it as one of the many questions that she knew she couldn't answer and simply held him tighter. He eventually pulled away and looked up at her. As she looked down into his eyes, the pain that filled them almost made her cry. She'd seen Chandler with a broken heart before when women had screwed him over, but she knew just by looking at him that all of those so-called "broken hearts" had been nothing compared to this one. He gazed back up at her, not knowing what to say. He'd known when he asked her the question that she wouldn't have an answer, because he was painfully aware of the fact that there WAS no answer. He couldn't live with just seeing Jackson on "odd holidays." He suddenly stood up and kissed Monica deeply, trying to erase the pain he was feeling, because he knew that if he wallowed in it for much longer, he would lose his mind. Monica was surprised at his sudden action, but did nothing to stop it. Although she knew exactly what he was trying to do, she could come up with no better suggestion, so she wasn't about to stop him. His kisses were different from the ones she had become accustomed to -- while they were usually slow and gentle, which was one of the many things that she loved about him, they were suddenly different. There was a sense of urgency behind them, almost a sense of desperation. Chandler once again wrapped his arms tightly around her and pressed her body to his own, deepening the kiss. Monica allowed him to pick her up and carry her into his bedroom without a word. As he laid her down on his bed and continued to kiss her, running his hands up and down her body, Monica found herself wondering if she was doing the right thing by letting him channel his grief, but yet again she found that she had no other suggestion, so she pushed the doubts out of her head and let him slip her shirt over her head and off of her arms. He hastily removed his own white t-shirt and kissed her again. After a few moments, he broke the kiss and looked down at her, his head spinning. He felt like a whirlpool of emotion, and suddenly they were all in one jumble, unable to be identified separately. He quickly moved away from Monica and sat on the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands, feeling his eyes burning once again. Angrily, he ran his hands over his head and gripped his hair, closing his eyes. He felt Monica's small arms wrap around him as she pressed up against his back, resting her chin on his shoulder. He began to shake and she gently removed his hands from his head and turned his shoulders so that he was facing her. He looked at her helplessly, as though he were nothing more than a child. Not knowing what to say, Monica simply pulled him back into bed with her and wrapped her arms around him as he laid next to her and silently cried.  
  
"You pack his blanket?" Monica asked gently as Chandler sat at the countertop with Jackson held tightly in his arms. He nodded dully.   
"In the baby bag," he replied, monotone. She simply nodded, wishing that she could think of something comforting to say to him. He bowed his head and rested his lips against Jack's head, breathing in the familiar baby scent that he had become so fond of in the past months. He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat and fought back the tears that he knew weren't far. Regardless of how much this was killing him and how his heart seemed to break a little more with every passing moment, he refused to cry. He didn't want Kathy to show up and see him looking like a wreck. If he cried after she left, then so be it, but he wasn't about to cry in her presence. He glared at the bags that he had packed with Jackson's things that sat by the door, waiting. The apartment seemed so empty without the usual clutter of toys and stuffed animals, and he suddenly hated it. Those babyish accessories that he had once been embarrassed about filling his apartment with were suddenly the same things that he longed for. He tried to imagine what his life was going to be in the coming months, but found that he couldn't picture it. He knew that he'd never go back to the immature, responsibility-avoiding bachelor-type that he'd been before Jackson's arrival. He was thankful that he still had Monica, and he glanced at her as she silently zipped up one of the bags after putting a sweater inside. Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Chandler inadvertently tightened his grip on Jackson protectively. Monica stared at him for a moment before going to open the door. Chandler wanted to call out to her not to open it, just to let her knock and knock. If he didn't open the door, she couldn't take Jack away. He could keep him. At home. With him. Where he belonged. But he found that, regardless of the desperation that filled him, he couldn't utter a sound, and as Monica's hand reached out for the doorknob, he felt as though the seconds were flying by. On the other side of that door stood the person who was going to take his son away, and as soon as it opened, she would be there. It would never just be he and his son again. She would walk out of his apartment with Jack, and Chandler would be left with nothing. "Well," he thought bitterly, "until the holidays, anyway." He silently willed Monica not to open the door, but her telepathic abilities were either non-existent or switched off, because she opened the door slowly to reveal Kathy standing on the other side. She noted that she looked much like she had the first day she'd shown up: nervous and uncomfortable.   
"Hello, Monica," she said quietly.   
"Hi," Monica replied coldly, not even attempting to mask the hatred in her voice or to cool the glare that she shot at her. Kathy shifted her weight uneasily and averted her gaze.   
"Is, uh... is Chandler home?"  
"No," Monica answered shortly. "He flew to Peru this morning. To go and kidnap someone else's child. I guess he wants to be like you." Kathy flinched slightly as her words stung and she looked at her uneasily. Monica continued to glare at her until Chandler appeared at the door with Jackson held firmly in his arms. When she saw her son, Kathy felt her heart skip as she stared at him. He barely resembled the infant she had left behind months before, and she wondered if he did, in fact, remember her at all. She looked at Chandler and recognized the hurt in his eyes. She had seen it before, but somehow it seemed so much stronger now. She looked at her son once more and took a deep breath.   
"Chandler, can we talk outside for a minute?"  
"I have nothing to say to you," he said coldly, and she was surprised at how angry his voice sounded. She'd heard him annoyed when she'd cheated on him, but she noted that his tone was the closest she could ever remember having come to pure hatred.  
"Please?" she asked quietly, pleading with her eyes. Chandler continued to glare at her, and then wordlessly turned and handed Jack to Monica. Kathy noted enviously the way in which Jackson seemed so comfortable in her arms, and Chandler's comment that Monica was practically his mother suddenly sprung to mind. She suddenly found herself in the hallway with Chandler, the door closed behind them. She tried to avoid his fierce look, but she knew that she'd hurt him yet again, and was almost willing to admit that she deserved whatever he dished out.  
"What more do you want?" he demanded bluntly.   
"Chandler, please--"  
"No. You don't get to ask anything of me," he said angrily. He knew that this was probably one of the only times he'd get to tell her what he was feeling, and he wasn't about to pass up the chance. "You broke my heart once, but I forgave you. Then you dumped your son into my lap, and at first I was angry, but then I fell in love with him, and I forgave you. Hell, I was GRATEFUL to you. You gave me this great gift, and I was thankful that you did. Then suddenly you show up and take it back, and rip my heart out all over again. The pain of losing him is a thousand times worse than losing you, and maybe that's because he's not CHOOSING to leave me. You're stealing him."  
"Chandler, I'm not stealing him," she began, but was interrupted by Chandler scoffing.  
"Oh, right. Then what would you call it? Reclaiming him?"  
"No, I mean I'm not taking him." Chandler was suddenly confused and the way he stared at her told her so.  
"What?" He almost let himself hope that he wouldn't lose Jack, but he was too afraid of hoping. He knew that if he allowed himself to believe that there was hope and then that hope was crushed, he might never recover. Kathy took a deep breath and looked at him nervously.  
"I want my son," she said quietly, "but I also want my son to be happy." When Chandler said nothing, she continued. "You have no idea how much I want to raise him and watch him grow up. But for me to take him away from his home, a place where he is obviously so happy... that would be selfish, and although I know you think I'm selfish, I couldn't live with myself if I knew I was making my son unhappy. Monica was right, he doesn't really know who I am, and I might be hurting him by moving him."  
"When did you speak to Monica?" Chandler asked, confused.  
"She came to see me," Kathy replied simply. Chandler stared at her as her words swam around his head.  
"So... you're saying... what you mean is..." He looked at her warily, not sure of what to say.  
"I'm leaving Jackson with you," Kathy finished for him, the sadness evident in her voice. "He's obviously happy, and that's the most important thing." Chandler continued to stare, and was suddenly filled with a desire to do a thousand things at once. He wanted to hug her for not taking Jack away from him. He wanted to yell at her for putting him through this. He wanted to hug Monica for interfering. He wanted to hold Jackson so tightly so that he could never be taken away. He found, however, that he could do none of those things. Instead, he stood rooted to the spot and looked at her, dumbfounded.  
"Thank you," he managed with a whisper. Kathy nodded.  
"Take care of our son?" she requested quietly, her eyes filling with tears. Chandler nodded quickly.  
"You, uh, you want to see him?" he asked nervously, afraid that if she did see him, she'd change her mind. Kathy was obviously thinking the same thing and she shook her head sadly.  
"No," she murmured, and she stared at him for a moment before turning wordlessly and walking away. Chandler remained in place for a few moments before he turned around and walked back into the apartment. Monica was seated on the couch and had Jackson in her lap. As he entered, she stood up and looked at him sadly. He had an unfamiliar expression on his face, and Monica wondered what Kathy had said to him. It was then that she noticed that he'd closed the door and Kathy wasn't with him.  
"Where'd the bitch go?" she asked coldly.  
"California," Chandler replied quietly.  
"Huh?"  
"She's gone," Chandler murmured as he took Jack from Monica's arms and held him tightly. "It's just us now. Just us."  
  
**SIX MONTHS LATER**  
"It was good, but I would much rather eat something you made... any day," Chandler said with a grin as he held open the cab door for Monica. They had celebrated their one-year anniversary as a couple at a fancy restaurant and had decided to head back to Chandler's apartment for a night alone, since Ross was watching Jack for them.  
"Yeah, well... what can I say? It's hard to rival a gourmet chef," Monica replied playfully.   
"That it is," he agreed as he helped her out of the cab and paid the fare. As they climbed the stairs to their hallway, Chandler wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and sighed, basking in the contentment that had surrounded him in the past months. "Finally fits," he murmured.  
"What?" Monica asked, not hearing him. He shook his head and gently kissed her on the shoulder. As they walked into his apartment, Chandler turned and smiled.   
"How about a dance, since there wasn't a dance floor at dinner?" Monica grinned.  
"Sounds like a plan," she said warmly. He smiled again and went over to his stereo to find the disc he had planned on playing. Once he'd located it, he turned and walked toward Monica, a loving look on his face and a tiny smile playing on his lips. He wrapped his arms around her and as the music began to play, she rested her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly.  
  
We were strangers starting out on a journey,  
Never dreaming what we'd have to go through,  
Now here we are, I'm suddenly standing at the beginning with you.  
No one told me I was going to find you,  
Unexpected, what you did to my heart.  
When I lost hope, you were there to remind me,  
This is the start.  
And life is a road and I wanna keep going,   
Love is a river I wanna keep flowing,  
Life is a road, now and forever, wonderful journey.  
I'll be there when the world stops turning,  
I'll be there when the storm is through,  
In the end I wanna be standing at the beginning with you.  
  
We were strangers on a crazy adventure,  
Never dreaming how our dreams would come true,  
Now here we stand, unafraid of the future,  
At the beginning with you,  
And life is a road and I wanna keep going,   
Love is a river I wanna keep flowing,  
Life is a road, now and forever, wonderful journey.  
I'll be there when the world stops turning,  
I'll be there when the storm is through,  
In the end I wanna be standing at the beginning with you.  
  
I knew there was somebody somewhere,  
Love in the dark  
Now I know my dream will live up,  
I've been waiting so long,  
Nothing's gonna tear us apart,  
And life is a road and I wanna keep going,   
Love is a river I wanna keep flowing,  
Life is a road, now and forever, wonderful journey.  
I'll be there when the world stops turning,  
I'll be there when the storm is through,  
In the end I wanna be standing at the beginning with you.  
  
She pulled away and grinned up at him as the song died down, but her smile faded slightly when she noticed a thoughtful look on his face as he gazed into space. "Sweetheart?" she ventured, almost feeling guilty when he snapped back to reality with a start. He smiled down at her reassuringly and she felt comforted by his familiar smile. He gently took her hand in his and led her toward the barcalounger. "This is different," she said with a smile as she sat down obediently. "Usually I'm led to the bedroom." He smiled, still saying nothing, and stood in front of her for a minute. She began to wonder what was going on with him when he didn't say anything, and she eventually decided to ask him. "Chandler, is everything okay?" She looked at him intently as he took a deep breath and slowly lowered himself to one knee. She gasped and wondered if he was actually about to do what it looked like he was about to do.  
"I love you, Mon," he began in a low voice as he once again took her hand in his. He swallowed nervously and continued. "I prided myself on never really needing anyone. I always thought that if you opened yourself up to that, you were just opening yourself up to pain and heartache. And then you came into my life, and blew my world apart, because you were the first. The first person I ever allowed myself to need. Nothing was real until I had told you about it. Monica, I want to spend forever with you. I want to wake up next to you each morning and go to bed each night with my arms wrapped around you. I want to laugh with you when you're happy and be the solace you seek when you cry. I always believed that true love was a romanticized idea that people came up with to make the world a little more optimistic. I never dreamed that it really existed, let alone that I would find it. But I did. I found it in you." He took the tears that shone in her eyes as a good sign and continued. "I love you. I want to spend forever loving you. I want to make Jackson all over again with you. You are my world, my everything, and I will love you forever." He gently reached up and wiped away the tears that slid down her cheeks. "Monica," he said as he reached into his pocket and took out a small velvet box. "Will you marry me?" As she gazed at him, and at the ring, and let his words sink in, Mon felt as though she could explode, so strong were the emotions that swam within her. The love she felt for him was so powerful that she felt like she was lost in it.  
"Yes," she managed with a whisper. "Yes, Chandler, I'll marry you." He smiled, almost relieved, and slid the ring onto her finger. He leaned in toward her and kissed her deeply, feeling like he was on top of the world.  
"I love you," he whispered into her ear as she hugged him tightly.  
"And I you," she answered, smiling as he scooped her up and carried her into his room.  
  
OKAY, THAT'S A WRAP! PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK... THANK YOU TO THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE REVIEWED!! IT'S MUCH APPRECIATED!!! BY THE WAY, THE SONG IN HERE IS BY DONNA LEWIS AND RICHARD MARX AND IT'S CALLED "AT THE BEGINNING." I HOPE YOU LIKED IT... PLEASE LEAVE YOUR COMMENTS!! THANKS!!!! :)  



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